War of the Ring: Volume 1
by dan-yoda
Summary: Based on the video game, a lone Elf soldier discovers the plot of an evil huntress that might destroy all of Mirkwood forever.
1. Climax of Life

WAR OF THE RING  
VOLUME I  
BY YODAMAN  
  
The Fellowship has just made out from Rivendell. Saruman has just begun breeding his massive army of Uruk-Hai. The Witchking is beginning to mass his forces on the orders of Sauron. The War of the Ring is about to begin. Nobody in Middle-Earth is aware of the terrible events brewing around them. All except for Gondor, which is an easy target for Sauron, due to its close and strategic position from Mordor. Denethor, the steward of Gondor, is becoming more corrupt as the days go by. The army of Gondor, now lead by Faramir due to Boromir's absence, isn't making that much progress. Their main stronghold of Osgiliath is about to fall, and a massive army of Orcs has been ordered to destroy the city. But even though the hope for Middle-Earth's survival seems dim, there is hope, even though it is in the least expected place.  
  
CHAPTER I  
CLIMAX OF LIFE  
  
Ten years later "Come on!" yelled a blue eyed, blonde haired, elf named Amanadan. "Old man Ang is telling another story!" Amanadan had fair skin and carried a bow and quiver on his back. "COMING!" came the yell of Mîrien, his sister. She had sun-bleached skin, very light blonde hair and blue eyes that you could get lost in They both ran across the plains of Mirkwood to hear Ang's latest story. He was a scraggly elf with deep blue eyes and a smile that warmed the room. Old Man Ang, or more commonly known as Anganca, was a veteran of the War of the Ring, and all the children loved to hear his stories. Amandan and Mîrien were his biggest fans, but practically every one of the Silvan elves in Mirkwood came to hear his stories. There had been no battles since the Battle of Moria, which ended 8 years ago. Just a few months ago, this dying elf came and told them stories that even rivaled the old tales of Numenor. But every time he told a tale, the people would notice he would be getting sicker and sicker. People from all over Mirkwood brought him gifts and nice food dishes they would make, but Ang just but them aside and never paid any attention to them. "Hurry!" cried Amanadan. "He's about to start!" They then ran in the hut that Ang always rested in. The second they busted in, Ang looked at them and smiled. "I'm glad you came", said Ang. "For this tale would be meaningless without you as witnesses. Welcome, all Elves of Mirkwood. For I have a grand tale for you. One that will shock you and enlighten you, for it is my best tale ever. It is the tale of the countless soldiers that fought in this War of the Ring. It is of how you are still standing here alive and happy. It is a tale of my friend Aralokë Sunshadow, who is the reason I am still alive today." Amanadan and Mîrien were awed and afraid. Ang's description of the tale made it seem like this could be the grandest tale they will ever hear. But somehow it felt like this would be the last tale from Ang they would ever hear. "Now, where was I?" asked Ang. "Ah, yes. It all started in this very city. In the city of Menegroth." 


	2. The Prophecy

*Sorry about Chapter 1. I don't know how that all got messed up, since it wasn't like that when I cut and paste it.  
  
CHAPTER II  
THE PROPHECY  
  
This tale starts about ten years ago, right after the Fellowship of the Ring set out. I was a captain of king Thanduil's personal army and I led a battalion of about 675 wood elves. Life was pretty busy for us back then, with armies of Orcs and spiders living right next door. We never got any news from outside our own realm, so we never knew about the war brewing behind us. I'll begin this story with Aralokë, who is the hero of this tale. According to my source (Aráto Windrunner, who is Aralokë's best friend), they skipped training and went deep into the forest with Aráto and two other friends, Hinilin and Duinrama, to spar. They were all fighting each other on top of a flat, green in no teams with no strategy and no rules.  
  
"Watch my moves", said Hinilin, one of the two comrades. He then spun around in a circle, hitting each friend's armor, and then grabbing a dagger out of his pocket and pretending to stick it up Aralokë.  
  
"You call that a move?" said Aralokë. He then pushed Hinilin, who fell down. "Now that's a move".  
  
"Oh yeah?" teased the other two elves.  
  
"Yeah", said Aralokë. "You have a problem with that?" Then the two elves pushed Aralokë on top of Hinilin and then all four of them rolled down the hill. After a good minute of rolling, the foursome hit a large rock. Aralokë got up and realized that they were at the edge of a stream. And in the stream he saw a group of Elven girls bathing. One of them was Laurelin Bluecloud, a girl that he had been fond of for some time. His parents had been pushing him to marry her for some time, but Aralokë put his duties ahead of his personal feelings. But now, just staring at her, made him wish he could change his priorities. She was inhumanly beautiful. She must've been a Valar. Without thinking, Aralokë muttered "Tinúviel", just as Beren had done to Lúthein all those years ago. Laurelin, who heard his comment, covered herself up with a towel. She then waved at Aralokë, who waved back at her.  
  
"Tinúviel", muttered Aralokë once again. Laurelin laughed at his remark. All of a sudden, Aralokë got dizzy and fell over. He saw his friends come up to him and ask if he was okay, but all he could hear was laughing. Cruel, menacing laughing that could scare even the bravest of the brave. He then realized that he was in King Thanduil's throne room with Prince Faramir of Gondor and I.  
"My lord", said Faramir. "We were ambushed at Osgiliath a mere few days ago. We had no warning, no aid, and no way to defend ourselves. Will you help us?"  
  
"I will depart for Osgiliath at once", I said. Then, the laughing continued. The setting then changed into a burning Mirkwood, which was being swarmed by Orcs. While the screams from every man, woman, and child in the forest could be heard, the Nazgul were screaming as they rode strange fell beasts over the city, creating carnage everywhere they went.  
  
"Please!" yelled King Thanduil. "What have I done to you?" Aralokë turned around and saw that a Nazgul in strange armor was holding Thanduil by the throat.  
  
"Everything", said the Nazgul, who then stabbed Thanduil with a small dagger. He then dropped both Thanduil and the dagger, which shattered a few seconds later.  
  
"NO", yelled Aralokë. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Then, the setting changed one final time. 


	3. The Visionary

CHAPTER III  
THE VISIONARY  
  
Aralokë woke up and found himself on a bed. He looked around and saw several elves tending herbs and treating the sick. He was in the healing houses. He jumped up but then an elvish healer walked up to him and forced him on the bed.  
  
"You cannot get out of bed until your wounds are fully healed", said the healer.  
"Let me go!" yelled Aralokë. "This is a matter of dire importance!"  
  
"Can't the importance wait?" asked the healer. Aralokë found a cup of water right next to his bed and grabbed it. He threw the water in her face and he ran out of the room. And right out of the room was I.  
  
"Oh thank the Valar", exclaimed Aralokë. "Right before I passed out I..."  
  
"You skipped training, played with your buddies, and watch some maidens taking baths", I said to him. "I know".  
  
"No", said Aralokë. "I..."  
  
"What?" I said sarcastically. "Did you just deny your actions?"  
  
"That's not what I meant", said Aralokë. "I have something of dire importance not just for you but for all of Mirkwood".  
  
"This is of dire importance", I exclaimed. "You used to be such a good soldier- one of my bests. But ever since you've been having those visions you're on the edge of darkness."  
"Speaking of visions", said Aralokë. "I just had one. Lord Faramir of Gondor came to our aid and we helped him. Because of that, Mirkwood was invaded and the Nazgul took over."  
  
"Please", I said to him. "I don't have time for this".  
  
"But my last vision came true", he said to me.  
  
"Yes", I said to him. "The one about Lorien being assaulted by Orcs. But what about the one about the Grey Wizard turning white? What about the one where the king of Gondor arose again? Have those come true?"  
  
"Not yet", said Aralokë. "But still..."  
  
"My point is", I interrupted to end the conversation. "You're becoming worse and worse every day. You skip class and play instead of work. You even watch maidens taking baths, which is so uncharacteristic of you..."  
  
"It wasn't my fault", said Aralokë. "I slipped down a hill and...."  
  
"Sure", I said. "Aralokë, just not do anything like that again, okay?"  
  
"Okay", said Aralokë. "But what about my vision?"  
  
"Oh", I said. "I can't guarantee that it would become true. And by law we must help anyone who asks our aide." Aralokë then just gave me a great, evil stare that made my bones chill. "You better get back to the healers. I won't accept you until the healers say you are fit for duty".  
  
"Okay", said Aralokë. He then walked inside and I just walked away. That was one of the most painful conversations I've ever had, and I knew more were coming. Oh well. I just walked away to have something to eat. Then, right after I left, Hinilin, Aráto, and Duinrama ran into the healing houses and threw a quilt on to of Aralokë.  
  
"Guess what?", said Hinilin. "Laurelin made this for you". The other elves made a bunch of "oooo" and "ahhh" noises, but Aralokë just ignored them.  
  
"Guys", said Aralokë. "I'm serious. I had a vision where we helped Lord Faramir of Gondor and because of that decision, all of Mirkwood burned to the ground. Anganca refused to accept this vision, so I'm worried that we'll be doomed because of this. I have a plan to prevent this. Do you agree to help me?"  
  
"Yes", said Aráto. "But what do we do?"  
  
"Okay", said Aralokë. "This is what you must do..." 


	4. The Birth of Adventure

CHAPTER IV  
BIRTH OF ADVENTURE  
  
Aralokë, Aráto, Hinilin, and Duinrama all went out onto the west road in the middle of the night when no one but the fell beasts of Mirkwood were awake. According to Aráto, Aralokë's plan was that they would first steal some Haradrim armor from Aetier's (and as you all know, Aetier loves to collect enemy armor). Second, they would go out on the west road and watch out for any travelers. Aralokë did this since the west road was the only way to travel from Gondor to Mirkwood, so Faramir would have to travel through here. They disguised as Haradrim so they can pretend to rob Faramir to drive him away from Mirkwood. They all knew this was a risky and dangerous plan, but it was one step that must be taken to save Mirkwood.  
  
"Why don't we go up this tree?" asked Hinilin. "We can watch the people from the top."  
  
"Yeah", said Duinrama. "Sounds perfect to me".  
  
"Okay", sighed Aralokë. "We go up the tree." Then the foursome climbed up the tree and sat on the top. Every hour, a different elf would sit on the topmost branch to look out for Faramir and company. Finally, three hours later, it was Aráto's turn.  
  
"Why are we still here?" complained Aráto. "Face it, we're never going to catch them. And it's daylight in two hours."  
  
"We're going to stay here until we find Faramir and drive him away from Mirkwood", said a stubborn Aralokë.  
  
"Yeah", said Aráto. "But Anganca will know that we are gone once training starts. And he wasn't too pleased with us last time, remember?"  
  
"I don't care about Anganca", yelled Aralokë. "You are going to do your job until I say it's done. Understood?"  
  
"Yes", said a saddened Aráto. He didn't want to do this, and he absolutely hated it when I scolded him. But he knew Aralokë knew best. So he just looked out and waited to see if anything out of the normal would pop up. After a while, a loud, screeching scream was heard all over Mirkwood.  
  
"What was that?" asked an asleep Duinrama.  
  
"NAZGUL!" yelled Aralokë. "GET OUT OF SIGHT" Then the foursome hid and the bushes to see what was going on. A second later, they saw a Hobbit running across and two black riders were chasing the hobbit on strange winged beasts.  
  
"I'll get them", said Hinilin. He then jumped out of the trees and onto one of the winged beasts.  
"HINILIN, NO!" yelled Aralokë. But Hinilin ignored Aralokë and continued his quest. He then climbed to the top of the beast and drew his sword.  
  
"Die, you creature!" yelled Hinilin. He then slashed it at the ringwraith but the Nazgul drew his sword and blocked his blows. Hinilin then tried to stab the wraith, but his blade shattered when it touched the wraith. Hinilin cried out in pain, but the wraith didn't care. The wraith then stabbed Hinilin and fed him to his winged beast.  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" yelled Aralokë. He couldn't believe it. One of his best friends of all time was gone forever. He had to get revenge on the wraiths without getting anyone else killed, and there was only one way to do that  
  
"Guys", said Aralokë. "We must save the hobbit. He's getting fatigued and will die soon. Then we leave for home. Understand?" The two elves shook their heads. "Okay, we're going to jump down on one, two, three, NOW!" The threesome then jumped off the tree and sped for the hobbit. Aralokë and Duinrama drew their swords while Aráto raced to get the hobbit.  
  
"It's okay", said Aráto. "I'm brining you to safety." The Hobbit was speechless. Once Aráto had the hobbit, Aralokë knew what to do.  
  
"GO NOW!" yelled Aralokë. The elves then ran as fast as they could toward the city, which was about a three minute run. The two beasts were in pursuit, grabbing trees and throwing them at the elves with their talons. After a few minutes of running, the wraiths gave up pursuit of the hobbit and left them alone. But then, out of nowhere, a blade came flying down from the sky and hit Aráto in his left arm.  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" yelled Aráto.  
  
"Duinrama", said Aralokë. "Get Aráto to the healing houses. I need to talk to the hobbit".  
  
"Okay", said Duinrama. Aralokë then walked up to the hobbit and put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I know this might be a stressful time for you", said Aralokë. "But can you just answer one question- why did the wraiths pursue you?" The hobbit then reached into his pocket and took out a ring.  
  
"Because of this", said the hobbit. Aralokë then knew that this was another matter of dire importance. 


	5. The Road to Ruin

CHAPTER V  
THE ROAD TO RUIN  
  
Not to long after the threesome came back to the city after their encounter with the Ringwraiths, a counsel of elves was called. All though only Elves from Mirkwood and Lorien attended, it was a counsel of dire importance. The reason so was that it would decide the fate of the Hobbit (who's name was Bungo Harfoot) and his supposed "ring of power".  
  
Before I get into what happened during the counsel, I'll tell you what happened right before the counsel. In the middle of the night, I heard screams coming from the healing houses.  
  
"Help!" yelled the voice. "There's a poisoned blade in my friend's arm! HELP!" I then jumped right out of bed and ran down there. Right when I got there I saw Duinrama dressed up as a Haradrim holding Aráto, who was also dressed up as a Haradrim.  
  
"Why in the name of Mandos are you dressed up like Haradrim?" I asked them.  
  
"Now's not the time", exclaimed Duinrama.  
  
"Okay", I said. I then carried Aráto to the nearest bed and turned on some candles for light. "How did he get the blade in his body?"  
  
"Nazgul", said Duinrama.  
  
"NAZGUL?" I exclaimed. "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" I then heard a loud scream from Aráto and I knew I had to keep my mouth closed for the moment. I then put on some gloves and took out the blade very slowly, trying not to hurt Aráto. Even though I was as gentle as I could be, he cried like a baby. I then lifted up the blade to the light and saw the blood that covered the blade. The blood was red with a tint of very dark black.  
  
"He's been poisoned all right", I said. "How long ago was he poisoned?"  
  
"A mere two minutes, sir", said Duinrama.  
  
"Normal poison wouldn't travel that fast", I said. "But Nazgul poison sure will". I then lifted up his bloodied left arm. It was very limp. I then lifted up his right arm. It was extremely strong.  
  
"I need to remove his left arm", I said. "So the poison won't spread throughout his body". Then, Aráto gave me a look of pure terror. I have never seen a face so terrorized and I don't think I ever will again. This was probably the hardest thing I've ever done, but I knew I had to do it. I then drew out a sword and was about to remove the arm when Aralokë ran in and held Aráto's right hand.  
  
"It's going to be okay", said Aralokë. "If you can just withstand this pain for one minute, you will be able to see the spring again. Do you remember how you used to love the spring?"  
  
"Yes", said Aráto. "And I still do".  
  
"Stand back", I said. I then lifted up the blade and began to remove the arm. As I gently moved the blade down to get rid of it, Aráto was screaming bloody murder while Aralokë and Duinrama stood by his side and cried to see their friend in pain. After a mere minute, the arm was removed. I then put the arm into a special container (where we put all amputated limbs), and washed the stub that used to be Aráto's left arm. I then cleaned the blade and wiped all the blood off the table.  
  
"There's nothing you can do now", I said to them. "Except stand by his side". Then I left the area. I didn't even bother with how Aráto got poisoned or why they were dressed up as Haradrim. There was too much pain to think about those trivial things.  
  
Now, back to the counsel. While I was amputating Aráto, Bungo supposedly woke up Thanduil to tell him about his ring.  
  
"We need a counsel", said Bungo. "All of Middle-Earth depends on it".  
  
"Yes", said Thanduil. "I agree. I will send riders out to Lorien, our sister land. There will be a counsel in two days. No more, no less".  
  
"Thank you, my lord!" exclaimed Bungo, who happily left the area.  
  
"You are certainly most welcome", said Thanduil. Then, two days later, a counsel was held. Three lords from Lorien and three lords from Mirkwood were present, along with the witnesses (Aráto, Aralokë, Duinrama, Bungo, and I) and Thanduil. We sat in a middle-sized courtyard, which was place behind some very beautiful trees that was about to bloom.  
  
"Citizens of Lorien, Mirkwood, and the Shire", said Thanduil. "We have a crisis on our hands. This hobbit told me himself that he holds in his hand a fake One Ring. He was sent on a mission by the Blue Wizards to draw attention away from Sauron and his minions while the Ringbearer attempts to destroy the ring in the fires of Mount Doom. But the aura of this fake One Ring wore off after a while, and the Ringwraiths found him and captured him. He was sent to Saleme the Huntress, who supposedly is sitting right here in Mirkwood with a massive army of Haradrim, waiting to strike at the heart of us. But Bungo escaped with the ring, and was rescued by Aralokë and his friends. Bring forth the ring, young hobbit". Bungo then walked up and put the ring in front of Thanduil and then sat down.  
  
"Now", said Thanduil. "I call upon Aralokë, who supposedly rescued this halfling". Aralokë then walked up and stood in front of everyone. I knew he was nervous. He had to be. He did something wrong that led to the rescue of Bungo, and he had to tell the top officials of two cities. But Aralokë was an honest soul, and he would rarely lie.  
  
"My lords", said Aralokë. "One day, I was sparring with my friends when I tripped and fell off a hill. I hit my head on a rock and suddenly had a vision. In that vision, I saw Lord Faramir of Gondor. He needed help and we responded. Because of those actions, Mirkwood was burned to the ground and the Witchking murdered Thanduil. I then told my vision to Captain Anganca, who refused to believe that it was true. So my friends and I stole some sets of Haradrim armor and went out to the west road to drive off Faramir and his company. But instead of Faramir and his company, we found two Nazgul chasing Bungo on strange winged beasts. I lost one friend and one of my friends lost an arm is this chase. But we rescued the hobbit, who is alive and well today."  
  
"Thank you Aralokë", said Thanduil. "You may now sit. We will now..."  
  
"MY LORD!" yelled a voice from the distance. "LORIEN HAS BEEN ASSAULTED A SECOND TIME!" Then everyone gasped, but I stood up.  
  
"I will depart with my regiment at once, Arash", I said to him. Aralokë jumped up and stood in front of me.  
  
"But what of the hobbit?" yelled Aralokë. "He was sent by the Blue Wizards to lead the Wraiths away from the ring bearer!"  
  
"I don't care", I responded. "You will stay with me and leave the Hobbit behind. Is that clear?"  
  
"Yes sir", said Aralokë.  
  
"Are you sure all the soldiers are ready?" asked Thanduil.  
  
"Every since one of them" I said. "But there is one I'm afraid of". I then gave an extremely dirty look to Aralokë. "Get ready for battle, except you, Aráto. You have been too wounded for battle. And Bungo, stay with Thanduil at all times. LET"S MOVE!" Everyone then left except Aralokë, who went to Bungo.  
  
"Come on", said Aralokë. "There must be some battle armor that could fit a hobbit". Bungo's face then lightened up and he followed Aralokë with the utmost glee. 


	6. The Battle Before the Dawn

CHAPTER VI  
  
THE BATTLE BEFORE THE DAWN  
  
A mere day later, I set out with my company to go attack the evil forces that Arash told us about. I set out with all 675 elves, including Aralokë and Duinrama. We got word from Bungo that the enemy base was to the left of Menegroth, so that's where I ordered my men to march. After a few hours of marching, Duinrama ran up next to me and decided to have a talk with me.  
  
"Sir", said Duinrama. "Why are we marching to the west? Arash told us that the enemy forces attacked Lorien from Dol Guldur".  
  
"I know he did", I said. "But the halfling told us that the base he was held at was to the west of Menegroth. Since he personally experienced living in the base, that must be where the base is."  
  
"But sir", said Duinrama. "How do you know the hobbit isn't trying to trick us?"  
  
"How do you know Arash isn't trying to trick us?" I said to him. "I don't. And I don't know that the hobbit isn't trying to trick us, but I made a choice and I trusted the Hobbit. Duinrama, you should understand one thing about life- there are an infinite amount of choices to make, and what choices you do make are the ones that determine the course of the future. What happens if we fail?"  
  
"Then all of Middle-Earth fails", said Duinrama.  
  
"See", I said to him. "Life does depend on the choices we make. In life, we must..."  
  
"My lord!" yelled Arash. "Our scout came back dead with four arrows in his body".  
  
"What kind of arrows?" I asked him.  
  
"Haradrim by the looks of it", said Arash.  
  
"By the name of the Valar", I cursed. "EVERYONE, FALL OUT!" Then everyone ran up behind me. "FALL INTO FORMATION ER-ER-ER!" Formation er-er- er was when the archers would get behind the swordsman so the archers can quickly get to their swords if the enemy gave us a surprise attack. For a minute, we heard nothing but the chirps of birds and the swooshing of streams. But then, a strange chant could be heard throughout the forest.  
  
"ARCHERS, READY!" I yelled. The archers then grabbed their bows and arrows and aimed at invisible targets in the distance. As the chanting grew louder, we could barely make out a large mass of people. Then, a minute later, we could make it out as a Haradrim force of about 800 soldiers.  
  
"FIRE AT WILL!" I yelled. The archers then all fired when ready, and the front line of the Haradrim was all hit with arrows. But once the Haradrim lost their soldiers, they got furious. They all drew swords and charged like starving dragons lunging for a meal.  
  
"DRAW SWORDS!" I yelled. Then each and every soldier dropped their things and unsheathed their swords. "CHARGE!" Then, I charged out to the enemy forces and my entire army followed me. Several enemy arrows zinged past our heads and hit several of my soldiers. I would have to mourn for them later, for now I would have to concentrate on the battle going on now. A few seconds later, we had impact with the Haradrim. The ching of the swords clashing rang in my head, and it would throughout the whole battle. Once we collided with the Haradrim, I swung my sword around killing as many of the enemy as possible. I could see their painful and terrorized faces as I stuck my sword through each of their bodies. But I didn't care. All I cared about was the victory that was at hand. For a moment I thought I saw Bungo clad in Elvish armor taking a swing at the Haradrim, but I knew I must've been imagining things, for Halflings cannot fight. So I swung my sword, dodged their blows, and helped as many soldiers as I could, which was not many. I knew these soldiers had to take care of themselves, but when I saw a helpless youngling screaming for mercy as a Haradrim was about to stick his cruel blade through the boy's body, I couldn't just stand there.  
  
Speaking of younglings, you might be wondering about Aralokë and Duinrama. Well, they were having the same time as I was- killing, dodging, and saving. And I have to tell you they were excellent fighters. Especially Aralokë. He was just slashing through the enemy like butter through a knife. And he rarely got any wounds. But that would change soon.  
  
"HEEEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEEEEEEEEEE!" came a voice from the distance. "HEEEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEEEEEEEEEE!" The voice rang in each soldiers' (except the Haradrim's) heads. According to Aráto, that was the same laughter Aralokë heard in his vision. Then, several seconds later, a barrage of blades came zinging down. These blades were exactly like the one in Aráto's body. They came down like rain from the sky while the cruel laughing continued. These blade killed several soldiers for it hit them in the throat, but the ones who were hit in not as such a venerable place (such as the arm or the legs) showed various sick effects. Some started spitted white foam, while others became paralyzed. Some even turned into ash and blew away with the wind. I then saw that nearly every soldier (including Aralokë and Duinrama) was hit by a blade. After a while, I knew we had lost the battle.  
  
"RETREAT!" I yelled. Shortly after my call, a blade hit me. I then turned and saw that it hit my legs, which became very limp. I then fell down, since I couldn't walk anymore. My legs couldn't function. Then, a few minutes later, I saw a Haradrim walk up to me and put his foot on my back.  
  
"Die, you miserable creature", said the Haradrim. That was the last thing I would here in a long time. 


	7. The Flames of Gondor

CHAPTER VII  
THE FLAMES OF GONDOR  
  
A few hours after the battle, Aralokë woke up. He fell in the battle when a one of the blades hit his neck and sprung a painful infection in his body, and the infection didn't seem to be any better then. He got up expecting to be in a room full of Silvan prisoners of war, but he was in a surprise. He found himself right in front of Minas Tirith, but it wasn't the Minas Tirith he knew. This Minas Tirith was in flames, and it's walls crumbled up like old bricks falling from the sky. And more noticeable was the White Tree of Gondor, which was black from the vile flames instead of white from the Silmarils that it sprung up from. He then heard several voices behind him. Cruel and deep voices that could only come from one place- Mordor.  
  
"What about the women and children?" asked one of the voices.  
  
"Are you kidding me?" said another voice. "Kill them exactly the same way you do the warriors- except make it a slow, painful death. That will lower the morale of enemy".  
  
"Whatever", said the first voice. Somehow, the second voice sounded totally out of place with the other ones. While most of them were deep and raspy, this voice was high and clean, as if he came from the Bree area. So Aralokë walked to the direction of the voices to find out the mystery of the voice, but the mystery baffled him. As he walked closer and closer, he could make out the voices as an army of Orcs. All of them looked the same to him, so there wasn't anyone that was different. But as he walked closer, he could make out one really short orc. As he got even closer, he figured out that this wasn't an orc. It's skin was light, it had long, curly hair, and it's eyes burned with the flame of evil. It was defiantly a Hobbit wearing Orkish armor.  
  
"Hey", said one of the Orcs. "The enemy is drawing closer".  
  
"I know that", said the hobbit-orc. "Do you think I'm that stupid?"  
  
"No", said the orc.  
  
"Good", said the hobbit-orc. "DRAW SWORDS! WE SHALL HAVE MAN FLESH TONIGHT! " The entire Orc army then drew out their swords and cheered. "CHARGE! ". The Orc army then charged out into the distance, and Aralokë charged with them. He wanted to see what all this fighting was about. As he charged with the enemy, he saw what they were facing. It was a group of surly men, elves, and dwarves who were all dressed in rags and carried blunt swords. All except one man, who bore one great huge sword that outshone all the rest of them. Aralokë could make it out as Narsil, but that blade was broken. Who would wield the blade? None other than the king of Gondor. But surely this wasn't him? Most of the Kings of Gondor were men of great stature, looks, and fame. This man sure wasn't one.  
  
"ATTACK!" yelled the man who wielded Narsil. The two armies then clashed and the battle began. It was all a blur for Aralokë, who could barely make out how each army was doing. But as the battle went on and as more and more people died, he could make out what was happening. The men in rags appeared to be winning, which was a huge surprise for him. And it looked like the Narsil man was having an easy time with the battle. He kept killing the Orcs with such swiftness and skill that had not been seen since in the old days of Numenor. Aralokë was very glad about this, since he hated Orcs all his life.  
  
"We are losing", said one orc to the hobbit-orc. "Should we call out Groshma?"  
  
"Are you kidding me?" said the hobbit-orc. "You should've called him out ages ago". The orc then grabbed out a large horn and blew it. Several seconds later, a large, dragon-like shape came out of the flames of Gondor.  
  
"BALROG!" yelled the Narsil man. "RETREAT!" As the good army left the battlefield, the orc kept blowing his horn. Then, out of the flames, a great big Balrog came out. He then unsheathed his sword and started swinging it at the men. The battle then turned into a massacre as the Balrog seriously reduced the numbers of the company. The Narsil man then ran up to the Balrog and deflected the sword blow with Narsil. Then, out of nowhere, the Hobbit-Orc walked up to him and stabbed him in the back. The hobbit-orc then laughed an evil, bone-chilling laugh that froze the hearts of all the good people present. Then, he felt a sharp pain in my back and a voice shouting in his ear.  
"Wake up, you maggoty slug!" said the voice. He then woke up to find myself in an Orkish concentration camp. He then got up and the orc started whipping me. There was truly no hope for Middle-Earth. 


End file.
